When We Say
by littlemusings
Summary: Four years after the Titan War, the world is at peace. He was hailed an invincible hero. But, Percy Jackson can't always survive everything, and all it took was one bullet to bring him down. Something extraordinary saves him, but at a terrible price.
1. Prologue

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_How Delightful  
_.of **when we say  
**..by **littlemusings**

**...**

"The night is getting darker, still."  
-Whitney Wiatt & Stephen Jerzak

**...**

The man looked down the alleyway. It was broad daylight, the sun beating down on the pavement outside of his sanctuary. As like all other stereotypical homeless men, he was covered in the stink of the alley dumpsters, and his old suit was grimy and worn with age. In his pocket was a gun. A simple pistol with one bullet placed in place.

He wanted to play a game. A simple game, in fact, a game that would end quickly-a dangerous game that would end with two different outcomes, depending on if the bullet were shot: death or life. Russian Roulette. But he would not be playing it himself. No, he would not.

He had been homeless for some time-his wife had left him months ago due to extreme debt, and his boss (he was a traveling salesman, you see) laid him off after several drunken ventures.

So, basically, he needed cash.

Cold, hard cash. And how was he to obtain this "cold, hard cash"?

Russian Roulette, of course. But he would not be playing it himself.

He gazed down the column of darkness, his dark, dilated eyes squinting towards the light. He was looking for a friend to play with. A friend to play Russian Roulette with him.

A woman passed by, a little child in tow. She was a pretty brunette with a good figure and was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. No. He didn't want to kill a child's innocence in the process. It was too risky.

Five minutes later, an elderly man waited to cross the crosswalk, this time, not a child, but a simple, wooden cane was in tow. No, the suited alley-man muttered. He should live his life out. And he could sense the man did not have much.

Finally, after waiting a while, a young man, about eighteen or twenty, with dark, messy jet-black hair walked in front of the alley entrance and stopped to check his watch. He didn't seem like he was going to cross the street. The bonus was that the boy was wearing a black suit, complete with a tie and a dark laptop bag. Jackpot.

The alley-man made his way down to the end, without the young man noticing. He slowly pulled out his gun, flipped the switch to let the game begin. As he switched it, he hid himself behind one of the trash cans, and aimed it at the smiling young man. _He should not experience my world, no, no, no, he shouldn't_. _He must be put out before his misery comes_. _Yes, yes, yes_. These deranged thoughts racked his brain more so than ever.

He targeted the young man's back, and pulled the trigger.

The bullet released, and hit its target, point-blank.

And he watched the boy fall, fall, fall to the ground. Dead? He couldn't tell, but he slowly crept over to the dying boy, placing his pistol quickly in his suit pocket. A pool of blood was collecting under the boy, who struggled to get up. The alley-man quickly turned the boy, who began to groan in pain, over on his front, and stole as much money as he could from his pocket. Once he retrieved the last cent, he looked at the boy's face.

He was pale, young, and very handsome.

The alley-man continued to search the boy's pockets, and found a wallet. He usually did not check out the information of the people he robbed, but the boy's youth intrigued him. As he began to open the wallet, the boy grabbed his wrist tightly, and suddenly, he found himself looking straight into the boy's eyes. The wallet fell out of his hands.

"W…why?" the boy whispered hoarsely. The alley-man panicked, dropped the wallet, and ran down the long, dark alley that was his only sanctuary.

Those bright, sea-green eyes would haunt him forever.

**...**

Twenty year-old Percy Jackson was dying.

"Fading" was the easy way to put it. The son of a bitch had shot him in his Achilles' Spot, the small of his back. And now he was fading away slowly; his suit was damp with blood. Any minute now, a monster or two would probably appear out of nowhere and eat him. _Ah_, _what a happy ending_, he thought sarcastically, though his thoughts were beginning to muddle together.

Percy knew nothing would save him. Nico had warned him about bathing in the River Styx. Once bathed, if he were hit in his vulnerable spot-his Achilles' 'Heel'-he would die, for sure. How could he have let himself be caught off-guard? How could he let that son of a bitch shoot him like that?

He coughed, a little blood dripping down his lip. He began to inch his hand towards his wallet (which was lying on the pavement; the bastard tried to take that along with his loose change), and flipped it open quickly to one picture. A picture he would see for the last time.

Him and Annabeth.

He smiled, and fell into the darkness, feeling the Fates cut his string ever so slowly.

It was too bad no one was on the street to save him.

**...**

Annabeth Chase was getting anxious. It had been two hours, and Percy, her 'boyfriend' (they swore not to call each other such repetitive, boring names) was supposed to arrive at her apartment via cab to take her out to dinner for her birthday. And, her ADHD wasn't helping one bit.

_Where the hell is he?_ she thought miserably, running a hand through her blonde curls. It wasn't like him to be this late…unless…

A monster attack?

No, she would hear destruction going on from a mile away. No, there was no monster.

She sighed and stood up, pulling her blue pumps (given to her by Aphrodite as a birthday present earlier that day) off and throwing them to the side. She walked towards her couch and lay there, blue dress and all. It _really _wasn't like him to be extremely late for a…well, 'date'. Sighing, she pulled out a book on Greek Architecture, her favorite (of course, written in Ancient Greek to dispel her dyslexia), and flipped through it impatiently. _No. Damn it, no._

Annabeth threw the book aside and stood up, kicked the pumps aside, put on a pair of sneakers and a pea coat. She grabbed her purse and walked straight out of her apartment, not forgetting to lock it.

_Where would he be? _she thought worriedly as she waited for a cab to pass by.

Just then, a little shade of rainbow appeared over her head. An Iris-Message.

She took it immediately. It was Chiron.

"Annabeth-" he began.

"Where's Percy? Have you heard anything from him?"

Chiron gave her a grave look. "I thought you would know. Grover's not getting up. He's not responding to anything we do or say, Annabeth-"

Grover and Percy. Both unresponsive.

Oh, holy shit.

**...**

Annabeth quickly left the Iris-Message and dashed straight for the apartment garage. On any given day, she would never do this, but at a moment like this, it was crucial. She looked at the assortment of cars among her, and picked the most conspicuous car of the lot-a bright, cherry-red convertible. She groaned (it was too pretty to take, but she needed a fast-looking car), and quickly began to hotwire it.

She jumped in once it started. She thanked as many of the Olympians as she could, and drove off into the streets.

As she drove down, Annabeth heard her cell-phone ring in her purse on the shotgun seat. Muttering Greek curses, she pulled out her phone and answered it. "Hello?" she said, her voice strained. An unfamiliar male voice immediately began to speak.

"Is this Miss Annabeth Chase?"

"Yes, yes, who the hell is this?" she growled as she turned a corner quickly. "I'm a bit busy, right now, and I don't need someone to-"

"You're looking for your boyfriend, aren't you, Miss Chase?" the voice said quickly. "This is the NYPD."

**...**

Annabeth found herself driving towards the street Percy usually waited for taxis after studying at the community college. Instead of finding a normally empty street, she arrived to a mass of reporters, an ambulance full of EMTs, and several police cars. She pushed through the throng of curious people and found herself barricaded from the scene by a line of yellow police tape. Cursing in Ancient Greek, she quietly pulled out her special bronze dagger and cut the tape, quickly stowing it away once her deed was done. Annabeth crossed over the rope and was immediately halted by a policewoman.

"Excuse, me, ma'am, I'm afraid you can't cross over here-"

"Annabeth!" called a very familiar, breathless and frightened voice. Annabeth found herself looking up at her old friend, the eighteen year-old Nico di Angelo, a son of Hades. "Annabeth…" he panted, grabbing her arm.

He was still the same as ever, with long, chin-length hair and dark, Mediterranean skin. And he still stunk of death. But, instead of wearing the regular black tee and torn jeans he always wore, he was suited up in an EMT uniform. Incognito? Maybe, because the police woman looked between them confusedly, and finally realizing they knew each other, she wandered off elsewhere.

"Where's Percy?" Annabeth whispered to him, trying to keep her composure. Nico looked at her sullenly.

"There," he mumbled, his voice cracking. He pointed towards the ambulance. Annabeth took a shuddering breath and ran for the ambulance, Nico following her. EMTs were tending to a covered body and were about to lift it into the truck.

"Wait!" she screamed, and they almost dropped the gurney in shock. Nico motioned for them to leave, and they hurriedly left the gurney to him and Annabeth.

"Annabeth, I tried, I tried so hard to get him back, but most of the Underworld shut down today for his trial, and-"

Annabeth slowly opened the body bag.

"I'm so sorry, Annabeth," Nico whispered as he saw the tears spill down her face. "I tried. I really did."

She shook her head and stared at Percy's face. With a shaky hand, she placed her hand on his cheek. It was cold. She would never see those lovely, unique, sea-green eyes ever again.

She placed a small kiss on his forehead, and zipped up the bag. She kept one hand on where his chest would be over the bag, and one running through her hair.

And that was when she broke.

**...**

**Author's Note: **Well, that was hard to write. Basically, this was my first PJO fanfic, but not my first fanfic overall, so I tried to keep them in-character as much as possible. Sorry for the shortness (it is a prologue, after all); I promise chapter one will be much longer! So, if you will, please review and leave praises, flames, constructive criticism, cookies, and whatnot by pressing the button with the speech bubble below! I hope you liked it.

_**Disclaimer**: _I am not Rick Riordan, therefore I don't own the Percy Jackson universe, and the quote at the beginning of the chapter is from the song "Oh, the Places You'll Go" by Whitney Wiatt, featuring Stephen Jerzak.


	2. A Little Lifelong Secret

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_A Little Lifelong Secret  
_.of **when we say  
**..by **littlemusings  
**…**disclaimer: **I am not Rick Riordan. Therefore, I don't own PJO or plot elements and characters from the books. To be more specific, this is not for monetary gain or sale. It's purely for fun. Thank you. Haha.

* * *

"Give me therapy; I'm a walking travesty."  
-All Time Low

* * *

At first, it felt like he was falling. _Literally _falling. And when things couldn't have gotten worse, they had. Percy fell, face-first into a crowd of people on a gray, carpeted floor. Many cried out in indignation, and moved away from him. He looked up confusedly. _Wait, aren't I dead? _he thought grumpily as he stood up and dusted his suit off. At first, it took a bit of time to adjust to the darkness of the room. He blinked twice, and he found himself standing somewhere he swore he wouldn't stand until he was dead. Well, now he was and he was back.

Percy was in Los Angeles California, and in the lobby of DOA Recording Studios, the entrance to the Underworld.

He had to pinch himself several times before he realized that he was transparent. See-through. Clear. Panicking, he looked around the room (which was pretty hard, considering the fact that tall dead people were blocking his view). He pushed through several people, and found five men huddled around the front desk, yelling at a handsome man who looked like he was in his late twenties and garbed in an expensive-looking Italian suit and Armani sunglasses.

"Now, listen, boys, I know you've been here for decades, but sorry, you still have to wait!" Charon, the ferryman of the River Styx grumbled impatiently. "Go away! I have other business to attend to-"

"What about my horse, sir? I couldn't have died without feeding my horse! She'll be terribly lonely!" one of the men exclaimed. Charon argued some more with the men, when Percy prayed to his father and pushed through to face the ferryman, who looked incredulous when he saw Percy standing before him, obviously _dead_ this time.

"Wait…son of Poseidon? You? What the hell (ha, ha, sorry, kid, no pun intended) are you doing here-wait, you're dead? Final-I mean, wow," Charon whistled, holding his arms out to get a good view of the twenty-year old Percy. "And you're pretty young. The last time I saw you, you were twelve, and you're twenty! What happen-"

"Shut up. I need an audience with Hades," Percy snapped, frowning deeply as he cut him off. "Like, right now, Charon."

"Got all serious, haven't you? Well, you can't. You're dead, and this time, you can't just go marching into Hades' palace as you are! He's going to give me so much crap about it-he's been being nice to me, you know. It's good to have that demigod son of his on my side."

Percy quickly reached into his pockets, but he remembered he was transparent, and that the bitch who killed him stole all of his money. Charon laughed. "You think paying me is gonna work, kid? I don't think so! My salary's been doubled since Hades got Daedalus to expand his empire! Less money for traffic control, more money for me!"

Percy kicked the desk in frustration (unfortunately, his foot went through), and walked off to find an empty space on the nearest dead person couch to sit on. Luckily, there was a small space between a shaky, big-eyed woman and a little boy, no more than four. _I've got to find a way out of here. This shouldn't have happened. If I ever get out of here, I'm going to find that fucker and kill him. _He looked up to the ceiling. _Sorry about my language, dad._

As he stared into the room, the noise suddenly got louder. He jumped in his seat, and out of nowhere, two skeleton guards, one dressed as a soldier from the French Revolution, and another dressed as a general from World War II, appeared out of nowhere. The mortals who could not see through the mist moved out of the way immediately, probably thinking they were policemen or something of the sort ("Sir, could you please tell me if my horse is alright?"). They went straight to Charon, handed him a note, which he read lazily, and nodded, pointing in Percy's direction. Percy's eyes went wide.

_Shit, _he thought grumpily.

He was about to get up, when the skeletons found him and grabbed his arms. Before Percy could protest, Charon quickly pulled off his sunglasses, unlocked a door, and the skeletons led Percy to the ferry port. Charon sighed, and once he stepped on the boat, he turned into a gaunt skeleton in a dark cloak.

The skeleton guards sat on either side of Percy, still keeping a tight grip on his arms. "What's going on here?" he exclaimed.

If Charon could roll his eyes, he would have. "You've been granted instant access to the front of the _Attendant on Duty _line, Jackson. You're pretty lucky. Your other demigod friends weren't as lucky, but they got in pretty quick themselves." He paused. "You're a pretty damn lucky soul, yes you are," he grumbled, speaking in a tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Don't quit your day job, Charon," Percy smirked spitefully, looking around. He frowned at the River Styx as they crossed it, mulling around in his thoughts. _That damned river._ _Ha, ha, I made a funny. _

Charon looked at him nastily (well, it looked like it, but you really couldn't tell with those skeleton faces) and kept on rowing when the boat finally reached a port and lurched to a stop. Percy jolted forward, but luckily (in a safety sense), the skeletons kept a hold of him.

"Welcome to the entrance to the death lines, blah, blah, blah, you know the drill. Boys, take the fish to the hook," Charon said, bored, gesturing towards a massive, dark hallway. The skeletons quickly dragged Percy out of the boat and onto the dock. "Well, Jackson, I'll probably be seeing you around…" Charon sighed. And as they crossed the dock, he thought he heard Charon grumble, "…hopefully in the fields of punishment, that little dirt bag…"

The skeletons led Percy past the long and winding _Attendant on Duty _line, which confused him. People in line were crying out in indignation and rage at Percy and the skeletons cutting in-line. He quickly looked down in guilt as they led him through two, large doors. As it was before, the ceiling was never ending, and he could hear Cerberus growling in the distance among the misty caverns.

The skeletons paused in front of two other skeleton guards guarding the doors that led to the front of the Judgment Pavilion and talked to them in what Percy considered their confusing 'language'. Either way, the guard skeletons nodded and let them through a black tent entrance. Percy's eyes widened when he found himself in a large room with a domed ceiling.

The room, just like the place it was located in, was dark, and smelled of death. The only things in the room were an ornate, arched table with fourteen seats, and a single, dark chair in the center of the room facing the arched table. Among the fourteen seats at the table, two were very regal-looking, dark, and emitted a power so familiar to Percy, he instantly knew who one of them belonged to: Hades, lord of the dead. But, he wasn't too sure who the second chair belonged to…Persephone? Maybe. But, it still emulated the same terror the larger one did.

The guards pushed Percy by the shoulders onto the chair facing the table and continued to flank him by his sides menacingly.

"So…what's going on here?" Percy muttered, folding his arms in annoyance. "First, I die. Second, I'm brought into the Judgment room out of my own free will, and now-oh…_shit. _Annabeth."

* * *

Annabeth sat, crumpled, right outside the morgue door. She did not utter a single word, nor did she cry. Nico finally walked out of the morgue with a painful expression and sat down next to her. She looked at him blankly, blinking twice before tears formed in her eyes.

"He's not dead," she whispered to Nico, who bit his lip and adjusted himself to sit more comfortably. "He's not, right? He couldn't be. He bathed in the River Styx, Nico."

He looked at her with a sullen expression mixed with pain. "He was hit in his Achilles' Spot," he croaked. Annabeth quickly wiped her eyes and pulled her legs to her chest.

"Any news from camp?" she asked him in a shaky voice. "Grover?"

"He's…breathing again. Steadily. Chiron said he looks as if he's been sleeping for a really long time," Nico sighed. "I just wish that Percy-"

"Can you help him?" she uttered quietly, her stormy eyes attempting to calculate his thoughts. "Percy?"

"I believe I can."

And with that, Nico di Angelo stood up, and gave her one last, fleeting look.

"I think I'm going to interfere with the judging process."

With those final, monumental words, he was gone.

* * *

Nico sighed as he was being frisked by security ghouls at the entrance to DOA Recording Studios. "Guys. You see me almost every freaking day." The ghouls moaned a little bit and let him through the door. As he stepped in, he was swamped by the various dead people who weren't rich enough to bargain their way, and as he always did, he reluctantly pushed them aside, wishing he could help them as well as he was going to try and help his best friend of some several years (that one year after Bianca died was a bit of a gap in their friendship, and basically, he lost count of the years). If he couldn't help Bianca di Angelo, he would help Percy Jackson.

"Charon, my man," Nico whistled at the sight of his only Underworld 'friend'. He knew he was hamming it up, but he had to try. "Nice suit. Armani and Versace, right?"

Charon smirked at the son of the lord of the Underworld. "Nice try, Nico, but it's more along the lines of…ah, Gucci. I wanted to try something new today."

Nico nodded, fingers drumming the reception desk. "D'you think you can give me a straight-up ride to my dad's palace or the Judgment Pavilion? I'll ask him for another pay raise for you."

Charon gave him an incredulous look. "I thought you could get there yourself, kid."

Charon was right, and Nico slapped his forehead. If he had not used Mrs. O'Leary to shadow run to L.A., he would've just gone straight to his father's palace.

"I forgot to tell the hellhound to bring me straight there," Nico admitted, frowning. Charon sighed and nodded.

"Alright, kiddo, you get a free ride with the next ferry," the ferryman smirked, patting Nico's shoulder gingerly. The eighteen year-old followed Charon through a door and into a ferry full of wary and confused spirits. Shuddering, he took his place by Charon in the front of the ferry and the man instantly turned into a hooded skeleton.

"Was Percy here earlier?" Nico asked worriedly. If Charon could've raised an eyebrow, he would've.

"Jackson? Yeah. Instant trial upon entry," Charon laughed. "You heard about the Underworld lockdown for his trial, right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know it would be so instant," Nico groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. He had to get to the Judgment Pavilion, and quick. Since Persephone was gone for the beginning of summer, he could probably sit by his dad there. "Where's my dad at?"

"Still at the palace. I'd get a ten-four on the ol' walkie-talkie up front if the biggest trial of the century began," Charon said, matter-of-factly. Nico nodded as they halted in front of a huge corridor, and all of the spirits stepped off confusedly as security ghouls shepherded them towards the lines, but not before they nodded and bowed to Nico. He was the son of the lord of the dead, after all.

"Thanks," Nico muttered, and he sprinted past the lines and Cerberus, and found himself at the Judgment Pavilion. He argued with himself about whether he should go straight to the palace as planned, or head towards the tent to talk to Percy personally.

He chose the latter.

After quickly talking to the security ghouls and skeletons at the front, they let him in reluctantly for a few golden drachmas. The dead-in-line shouted to be judged, but Nico painfully ignored them.

Once he entered, he panted and leaned against the tent wall, and the two skeletons flanking the 'accused' chair jumped in surprise and nearly shot him with their weapons. They weren't the only ones who turned around.

"Nico?" Percy gasped, staring blankly at his friend. The guards pointed their guns towards Percy now instead.

"Hey, hey, guys!" Nico exclaimed, looking at them with his eyes wide. "No need for that! He's already dead!" The guards lowered their weapons. "Can we have a little privacy?" he added, frowning.

The guards at each other with reluctance, then stalked off to the back of the tent.

"Nico, what the hell happened to me?" Percy muttered as Nico sat in front of Percy's chair. "All I know is that some dude shot me, and…"

"You were hit in your Achilles' Spot," Nico grumbled. "The small of your back, right? That was the only human part of you that anchored you to earth."

Percy nodded gravely. "So I'm stuck like this for eternity, huh? Wandering around here and never coming back…" He trailed off. "Unless I get Elysium, of course, then I could choose rebirth three times over?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind," Nico smirked, pulling something out of his pocket. Percy raised a ghostly eyebrow as Nico took out a sheet of paper from his pocket. "Don't you remember four years ago, when you saved the world from the titans in New York? Where a bunch of demigods were killed for the cause, and Luke preserved Olympus itself instead of…well, uh, razing and such?"

Percy nodded slowly.

"You might remember that the gods offered you something they haven't offered any hero in a really, really long time," Nico smiled weakly. "They offered it, and you denied it."

Percy snorted. "Are you serious, Nico? I'm _dead_ already. You can't offer a dead person immortality!" he exclaimed.

"But I think you're a special kind of dead person, Percy. One that the gods would think whose death would be a waste of great talent."

"So…" Percy hesitated. "What the hell do you mean by 'special'?"

"Perce, why the hell am I able to talk to you? You came here before; the spirits, unless they're summoned, can't talk to you. They're all just grey, huddled masses walking around and bumping into each other. You can't understand a word they say. Trust me. I kinda live here, dude," Nico laughed. "Just think about it, Percy. Immortality. Being alive again. _Annabeth._"

The name ignited a spark within Percy and almost immediately, he asked, "Annabeth…is she alright? I was supposed to take her to dinner, man, it's her birthday today, and I was going to…"

"To put it simply, my man, she is a mess."

Percy cursed in Ancient Greek, and gave his old friend a steely look. "What are the terms of…immortality?"

"It depends on who grants it to you, basically, and in your current position, Percy, it's going to be my dad," Nico mumbled in a simpering tone, handing Percy the sheet of paper he took out. "This is a little clipping I had Connor Stoll steal for me from the Athena Cabin back at Camp Half-Blood," Nico said weakly. "I didn't understand the concept a while back when I was fourteen, so I took matters into my own hands to figure things out."

Percy took the paper, but it immediately slipped through his fingers. Grumbling in frustration, he attempted to pick it up, but to no avail, he couldn't. Nico sighed and took it, and read it out loud.

"'_Immortality is quite a broad subject, but the definition can be narrowed down as such: immortality is the state of never being able to depart from this earth or to put it shortly, live forever. The gods of Mount Olympus have only offered such a great honor to a very select few heroes, including the son of Zeus, Perseus. But, immortality has its grave drawbacks as well as its benefits. For one, the immortal must watch his or her loved ones die as he or she never ages. The immortal must also abide by a few requests of the Olympian who offers the gift. But, if the gift is given as a thank you for serving the Olympians, the requests may not have been made at all.'" _

Nico took a deep intake of breath and looked up from the paper at Percy, who gaped at him. "Nico," Percy began, "There's nothing there about a dead person coming back and becoming immortal."

His friend shrugged. "Because it's never been tried. It's uncanny that we can still talk to each other. It seems that whatever's been anchoring you to the world is still up there and connected to you, Percy." He paused. "Can I know what that desire of yours is?"

Percy hesitated before speaking and finally, "Annabeth," he breathed.

"So basically, since Annabeth is still alive, a part of you is still on Earth. So I'm guessing since if that's true, you're…well, partially alive."

"That…is seriously fucked up in a way, Nico," Percy whistled. "So you're saying I'm kind-of alive?"

"This is pretty much guesswork, Percy. I'm still trying to figure things out, but if my thoughts are correct, then yes, you are partly alive. AND, if you're granted your immortality, you most likely won't get any requests or anything of the sort, since you were offered it a while back for helping save Olympus when you were sixteen. You're bound to get it, Percy. My dad's still pretty grateful to you for helping him get in better terms with his siblings and nieces and nephews."

"Your dad is the lord of the Underworld. He makes bargains and deals. He's just not going to grant me immortality without a few…_requests_," Percy spat the word.

Just then, another voice broke through their conversation.

"How quaint. My brother's son is here to be judged," a sneering voice said coldly, and from behind the chair, Hades, lord of the dead, walked in, and the two skeleton guards who hid in the back reappeared, followed by twelve pearly-white and utterly familiar figures.

The judges.

It was time.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own the Percy Jackson & the Olympians universe. All characters and plot-related ideas are Rick Riordan's. If I were Rick Riordan…_sigh_. I'm not. So basically, I write based on his plot and characters. Nor do I own the brands Armani, Versace…or Gucci. Their owners own them. Yeah. THIS story's plot is mine, though. I have that. But not for monetary gain or sale ;P

**Author's Note: **I am SO sorry it took so long for me to post this chapter. I recently moved to the Philippines from Japan, so I lacked decent internet and all-day use of my computer for nearly a month. So, now that I have what I consider somewhat _legit _internet, I'll try to be posting every other day or at least twice a week. I hope I can get in chapters when school starts next week.

I hope you're enjoying the story so far, and please, I _encourage you to leave a review by clicking the cute little 'review' button below. Leave cookies, constructive criticism, ideas, and whatnot! Thanks!_

_-littlemusings _/ sammehpants


	3. The Resolution

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_The Resolution  
__._of **when we say  
**..by** littlemusings**

**

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**

"I would die for you, my love."  
- The Pretty Reckless

* * *

_**Camp Half-Blood**_

Chiron was not an easy centaur to make anxious. He had a reputation for being the best trainer of demigod heroes, and being the son of Kronos-though he detested the very true notion-emphasized that fact. But now that his greatest student of all time was dead, and his satyr protector, unconscious, he felt extremely helpless. It was always like this. The best of the heroes, felled by their own protection. And, in Percy Jackson's case, his Styx shield was broken and penetrated by a mere mortal. It was strange, though.

He kept on wondering to himself for the rest of the evening, _why didn't Grover die as well when Percy did? _Though he didn't want either of them to depart from this world; it was strange for an empathy link.

Thus, he halted the creation of Percy's funeral shroud, which was supposed to be made by his half-brother, Tyson, with assistance from the Athena cabin. Because, who knew? Percy might still be alive…but he had just received word from Nico that he was definitely down in the Underworld, being judged at this very moment…

"Chiron," Mr. D grunted, clearing his throat as he approached his colleague. Chiron turned around, arms folded, and he nodded to the god of wine curtly as a courtesy.

"Mr. D," Chiron returned gravely. "Any news from Olympus?"

"So far, we've heard nothing from Poseidon or Zeus. Athena is currently on her way to see her daughter, and Hades is currently judging the brat-I mean, Perseus," Dionysus sighed. "I know you've never heard me say this about any of the other brats we take care of at this camp, but I sure hope Jefferson…I mean, Jackson, gets what he deserves."

The centaur raised an eyebrow.

"Elysium, I mean," the god smirked. "Isles of the Blest, you know. Rebirth three times and all that jazz. Barbecue and music and parties all day long."

"I won't tell anyone you said that," Chiron laughed without humor. Dionysus patted his shoulder.

"I know you love that kid. He'll get Elysium, or ol' Uncle Fisheye's going to get pretty pissed off about that. After all, I saw the ocean today. It's not pretty. Waves and all that."

"I really do hope so," Chiron whispered, watching the stars appear in the sky.

* * *

_**New York City**_

Athena quickly put on her best mortal disguise-chic, classy glasses, a dark grey pencil skirt, and a white buttoned-down shirt. Anything to look intelligent and deadly at the same time. As she headed for the elevator, she paused and looked behind her twice, and once she perceived that no one was around, she pressed the button for the first floor.

"Going somewhere?" a mischievous voice snickered. Athena frowned and turned around to see Apollo standing behind her in all his glory, wearing mortal teenage wear, folding his arms with an eyebrow arched speculatively.

"I'm going to help my daughter, if that's what you're wondering," Athena said coldly, as the elevator _dinged _and opened for her to enter. Muzak began to flutter out of it. She was about to step in when Apollo appeared in front of her again, blocking her way. "Apollo," she began, gritting her teeth. "Excuse me."

"You can just poof down like a regular goddess instead of taking the visitor's entrance," Apollo grinned. "Come on, sis, you're _Athena._"

"I prefer to make a _normal _appearance instead of unceremoniously _poofing,_" Athena snapped angrily, "into the hospital. I don't want to cause a scene. Even if there _is _Mist."

Apollo shrugged. "Let me give you a ride, then."

Athena raised her eyebrows as he pulled her into the elevator and they zoomed down the first floor and into the mortal world.

They got off the elevator, nodding curtly to the doorman, and Apollo snapped his fingers twice. Out of nowhere, a black BMW M3 Convertible appeared out of nowhere and in front of the Empire State Building. Athena rolled her eyes as she stepped into the shotgun seat and they zoomed down the street towards the hospital.

"What in Zeus' name happened to your Sun Chariot?" Athena gaped at him.

"Fixed it up a little. The scary black flaming van thing didn't work for me after a while, so for now, it's a zappy, trusty convertible. Easier to get around in. And…aha! We're here!" he exclaimed, screeching to a halt in front of Brooklyn General Hospital. Athena stepped out, and looked back at her half-brother.

"I'll wait here. Go talk to Annabeth," he smiled a little, and backed into a parking space. She smiled back at him, and it fell as she walked into the hospital. She disliked hospitals quite a bit; it smelled like Hades when he came to visit for the Winter Solstice-death and sickness. Plus, the building didn't have much class; she could've built it better. She scanned the building with her stormy grey eyes and walked quickly past the receptionist and towards the morgue, where the death stench was even greater than at the entrance.

It was there where she found Annabeth slumped against the nearest wall, asleep. She was dressed in a powder-blue dress and was wearing sneakers. Typical.

She sighed and folded her arms, looking at her daughter sadly. "Annabeth," she stage-whispered. The twenty-one year old girl shot up and after one second of gaping at her mother's presence, she stood up and bowed.

"Mom," she whispered. Athena blinked and held out her arms, and when Annabeth hesitated, she motioned for her daughter to hug her, and she did.

"Happy birthday," the goddess began awkwardly, which was strange for her since she wasn't used to such close contact with her own daughter. "But I guess it's not a very good day at all, isn't it?"

"No," Annabeth mumbled, her voice muffled in her mother's shirt. She looked up at the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy. "You came here."

"Yes. I…I came to comfort you. I couldn't stand to see you like this, Anna. I just…well…I couldn't."

"Thank you" was all her daughter responded with.

"That boy…Annabeth, I knew you truly loved him. I could see it in your eyes. And he loved you too," she separated from her daughter, and held her shoulders with both hands. "It wasn't his fault. I personally sent one of the lesser deities to search for the killer and bring him straight to me. It's a tad bit difficult, though. He's much more slippery than we thought."

"I want him dead." Annabeth shrugged off her mother's hands, punching the wall next to her. "It's his fault…it's…it's his fault he's…he's gone," she choked.

Athena gave her daughter a calculating look and sighed, gesturing for her to sit down, and she kneeled next to her.

"Don't give way to revenge. That is not your fatal flaw, nor should you ever submit to it," she stated sternly. Annabeth gave her a wary, exhausted look, as if she had aged several years.

"I'm not-" she began, offended, but her mother cut her off.

"You're not that hard to read at times, my daughter. And…I'm guessing…" she looked up at the morgue door, "Something…or someone, rather, is going to save Perseus."

"Nico," Annabeth stated bluntly. "He's trying."

"Not only Hades' son. We sense that a part of Percy is still anchored to Earth. That is the extent of what I know Nico di Angelo has figured out, and he is exactly right. What he is going to do…I don't know yet, but whatever it is, it's risky." Her voice softened. "Just figure out what that anchor is, and you better take care of it. You're an extremely smart and capable girl."

Athena winked at her daughter. And with that, the goddess was gone, and the loud roar of an engine was heard outside of the building.

"Mother!" Annabeth shouted, but she was already gone. She ran a hand through her blonde hair and frowned at the morgue door. She looked around for any doctors or nurses, and pushed through the door, biting her lip. She knew immediately what her mother had meant by the _anchor_. She knew it was a superficial thought, but somehow, she just knew _who _it was.

She tiptoed to Percy's body and stroked his hair. She tried to avoid letting the grief of her loss overpower her. "I love you. I'll get you back somehow," she whispered to him. "I…I'll watch myself for a while. Just for you." Once she said that, she walked out of the room, hesitated a little before walking out the door, saw his face one more time, and walked out of the hospital.

_**

* * *

The Underworld**_

When the judges came in, it was as if a wave of memories crashed upon Percy, making him jolt upright in his seat. The pain was almost unbearable.

"_Percy, happy birthday, kiddo!" his mother exclaimed, laying out a huge blue birthday cake out to his ten year-old self. "Make a wish."_

_And he blew out the candles._

_The scene changed quickly._

_Gabe was on one of his other drunken ventures around the house. His poker friends had just left the house. A six year-old Percy sat in the corner of his bedroom, playing with two superhero action figures his mother, Sally, had bought for him. _

"_Where's my damn money?" he heard the man shout. Percy looked up from what he was doing and bit his lip, looking from the door to his toys. _

_Then, Gabe walked into his room._

"_Percy, where's my fucking money?" Gabe exclaimed. Percy's eyes widened as Gabe started at him, his face contorted with rage. Just then, he heard the front door unlock, and his mother ran in, still wearing her Sweet on America uniform. _

"_Gabe!" Sally exclaimed, frightened. Percy looked from his mother to Gabe, then frightened, he ran to his piggy bank, and shook out five dollars his mother also gave him for his first day of kindergarten the next day. He ran to Gabe, and kicked him in the ankle, handing him the bill. Gabe grunted something incoherent and stalked off, his balance wavering, leaving Percy's mother to hug her tightly as she cried._

_Another memory came._

_It was a quest, nearly four years ago. The battle in Manhattan. He was holding onto Annabeth, who was just stabbed by one of the wayward demigods; it was so long ago, Percy couldn't recall his name at the moment…Wasn't it Ethan Nakamura…?_

"_Annabeth," he whispered, his voice turning desperate._

_And just at that moment, it was as if the memory morphed into something out of a nightmare. _

"_Percy, I…" Annabeth gasped._

No, that's not what happened-_Percy thought, panicking. _This really isn't what happened!

"_Annabeth, you're hurt, we've got to get you to the Plaza Hotel, they'll fix you right up-" dream-Percy groaned, his heartbeat racing. "And…and…I'm here! Percy! I'm here, Annabeth! Don't let go just yet!" _

_Dream-Percy quickly radioed Travis Stoll at the Plaza. _

"_See? They're on their way!"_

"_I…love…" She was fading. Quickly, and he could feel it. It was eerie, to have her in his arms, waiting for the Fates to cut her string. Her, the truly consummate survivor of them all-_

"_P…Pe…Percy," she uttered, "I…love…y…" She shuddered, and was still. _

"NO!" Percy shouted, and he found himself back in the Judgment Pavilion; the judges already in their seats, whispering about him and watching him pointedly. Nico was back at his feet again, shaking the chair to wake him up.

"Perce, what the hell was that?" Nico hissed. Percy gasped for air, gripping the death judgment seat as tightly as he could.

"Couldn't…couldn't breathe…" Percy gasped, running a hand through his transparent hair. "Couldn't…I…" he stiffened at the sight of Hades raising an eyebrow as he stood behind his son. "Uncle," he grunted.

"It's about time; it's been nearly ten minutes," the god muttered, shaking his head and walking back to his throne-like chair in the middle of the judges. "Nico. Get back here," he added, frowning to his son, who was watching his father with a confused expression. Nico nodded, looked back at his friend, and hurried to sit next to the lord of the Underworld.

Percy looked around at who was judging him carefully: it was silly, really…Isaac Newton, Abraham Lincoln, William Shakespeare, and other notable figures from time. But then, once he reached the end of the row of judges, his already stopped heart nearly stopped once again. _What the heck…?_

Luke Castellan was sitting at the end of the table, right next to J.D. Salinger. He looked the same as he did in life, but younger, and his telltale scar was gone from his face. Elysium had done him good. Luke gave him a wink, and Percy's eyes widened. But, for some reason, King Minos wasn't there, as he should've been…

"And if you're wondering where Minos is, Jackson," Hades snapped, as if reading his thoughts, "I've told him to get off his throne for once because I know the man's full of so much bias, it would fill the Styx with even more regrets than an old woman who spent her life taking care of fifty cats rather than fix her own life up. It took very much persuasion to give his throne up for just one teensy little trial."

_But of course, this isn't just a 'teensy little trial' to you, uncle._

"We now come to call the judgment of the very recently deceased Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon," Hades sighed, as if this were normal for him. "Do you have any regrets to speak of before we examine your lifespan and discuss the final resting place for your poor, withered soul?"

Percy noted the sarcasm. He thought for a moment about things he should seriously admit, but there was only one main one that should be noted.

"I regret not asking Annabeth Chase to marry me," he shrugged, raising his eyebrows and looking at the judges curiously for their reactions. "It's true," he said, nodding to Luke, who was smiling broadly. "I was going to do it sometime, but I guess I was a complete idiot not doing it soon enough, like, today on her birthday."

"And that is all?" Hades smirked, raising his left eyebrow humorously.

"I also regret not just calling a pick-up truck to get my broken car at the community college so I didn't have to wait near that alley to find a taxi…" he added, his voice trailing off at the end.

"Alright, check if his regrets are flowing in the River Styx. If they're not, we can assume he's lying or that some weird supernatural thing is going here. Shakespeare, I want you and Salinger to go out there and check with border patrol to see if any new regrets came within the last hour."

Shakespeare sniffed superficially, and walked out, Salinger skulking behind him, feet shuffling.

Hades leaned forward on the table. "Just a security precaution," he smiled, then leaned back. Percy smirked.

"I see you're really hoping to send me to the Fields of Punishment," the twenty year-old laughed, his eyes darting slowly towards Nico, who was shrugging, slightly panicking.

"Are you ready to cross-examine him now, men and lady?" Hades stated grandiosely, nodding courteously towards Cleopatra, who smirked back spitefully.

"What is this, the American Justice System?" Percy snorted. Nico shot him a look that read _don't fuck this up, man!_ Percy immediately calmed down and folded his hands in his lap, looking at the judges expectantly.

"Hades, I think I'd like to go first," Cleopatra smiled, her eyes oddly catlike; her voice filled with so much acid. Hades shrugged, and gestured for her to begin. Grinning even a larger grin, Cleo stood up and walked in front of Percy, arms folded. She adorned a long, white Egyptian dress, and her accent sounded oddly Mediterranean.

"Why, hello, ma'am," Percy began, nodding his head. Cleopatra snapped and a chair appeared behind her, which she sat in immediately. Percy caught a glimpse of numerous Egyptian glyphs covering the chair.

"Hello. Percy Jackson, in any moment of your life, did you ever cheat on Annabeth Chase, or any other girlfriend or fiancée you've ever had?"

Percy held back another snort. "I'm happy to say that I've only ever been with Annabeth Chase, and surely you don't believe I've ever done anything rash to her."

"Is that so?" the former Egyptian queen laughed with derision. "What about Calypso? After Annabeth had kissed you so quickly before fighting the telekhines just five years ago?"

Percy stiffened. "I wasn't with Annabeth back then. You know Calypso…she likes herself a good hero," he said quietly. He knew Atlas' daughter was extremely lonely. She was kind, but she had known so many heroes before him. She was only a 'what-if' to him.

"I see. I am finished," Cleopatra sighed, standing up. The chair disintegrated. She walked back to her judgment throne and sat, looking extremely bored already.

Hades groaned inwardly and looked around the table. "Anyone else want to ask Mr. Jackson questions?"

The room was completely silent.

Then…

"I'll go," Luke shrugged, standing up. Hades frowned and nodded as Luke walked towards Percy, snapping so that his own chair, a regular plastic one, appeared for him to sit on.

"Hey there," Percy smiled. Luke laughed.

"Hi, Percy." He paused. "I seriously can't believe you're here."

"Neither can I," Percy laughed awkwardly. "Alright. Your question. Shoot."

Luke thought for a moment.

"Imagine yourself four years ago, and you're in love with Annabeth, as much as you are now. Would you have sacrificed Annabeth if she were the child of the prophecy, killed her to make the world a better place-to preserve Olympus?" he asked after clearing his throat.

Percy stared at his former friend, pearly eyes to pearly eyes. "That's the most unanswerable question in the world," he snapped bluntly. Luke arched a speculative eyebrow and folded his arms.

"I'm waiting for your answer, Percy."

_If she were the child of the prophecy, if she were a child of the Big Three instead of me…What the hell kind of question is this…? I mean if he asked if I were in HIS position would I kill myself, then yes! But not…_his thoughts faltered.

"We're waiting, Jackson," Cleopatra cleared her throat. Percy frowned deeper and came to a consensus.

"I'd do it. Then I'd kill myself for doing it," he said finally.

Luke nodded in approval, stood up, and walked back to his judging seat, his plastic chair dissipating faster than Cleopatra's hieroglyph mini-throne. Hades folded his hands together and sighed.

"Let's change things around for a bit and talk about his sentence already. We've seen him as a hero, and let's face it, he didn't die the most heroic death ever. But he has been Olympus' hero for the past few years, from minor scuffles to major battles against the titans," he began. "And in one of those years he has been offered immortality-_what, _Nico?" he snapped impatiently as Nico cleared his throat loudly to gain everyone's attention.

"I…well, about his immortality offer, dad," Nico said slowly, "He may have turned it down in the past, but the gods of Olympus owe him a great debt."

"We've already claimed all our children and such," Hades growled, giving his son a dirty look.

"Yes, and Percy did that for the benefit of the other demigods, and not for himself. So therefore, in _my _personal opinion, you all owe Percy _himself _his life back," Nico said coyly. "It's only fair."

Luke smirked and nodded in approval. _That kid thinks fast…_

"What about Luke here?" Hades added, gesturing towards the son of Hermes. "He practically gave himself up for Olympus! He also bathed in the River Styx, and was felled by his own Achilles' Heel as well! He should've been granted that immortality four years ago."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Lord Hades," he began slowly. "In all honesty, during my trial, I really didn't request to have my life back. I've heard it be possible to bring someone who bathed in Styx back, but really, I wouldn't like it. I've heard it's pretty painful, too. I wanted to be free of all of my regret, everything I did in life."

Percy was astonished at Luke's statement.

"But, Percy deserves this. He brought me to myself again in the end. He gave up immortality for another reason, to help the unclaimed so that they wouldn't end up like me, lost, confused, and raving mad. He didn't want them to fall into Kronos' hands like me and Ethan Nakamura, among others."

"He has a point," Cleopatra purred, batting her mascara-covered eyelashes. "I vote for immortality."

"I do, too," Isaac Newton nodded in approval. "It is seemingly fit for a young man of such valor. When I examined his lifespan just before this trial, he has done much to help his friends and family. Even his fatal flaw is his personal loyalty."

"Add me to that list," Luke grinned, leaning back in his chair, feet on the judgment table. "Get ready for the fabled pain of revival, Perce," he added, grinning. Percy returned the grin.

"I vote immortality," Lincoln nodded, tipping his large hat.

And all around the table, the judges voted yes. Even Nico, who wasn't a judge in the first place, gave his input, completely without bias.

All who was left was Hades.

The lord of the dead hesitated.

"Seeing as all the judges are raving mad and lunatic, voting for revival, I'd like to have my say, and agree. I kind-of owe you for putting me in brothers' graces once again. They still send me Christmas cards. Hah!" Hades laughed. "Just to warn you, kid, being revived and becoming immortal at the same time is pretty scary. Hurts a lot too, which is pretty much the fun part for me. You see, I run the revival process, and once you're revived, and restored in your own body, I get to grant you your immortality and hand you my list of requests, one by one."

"Requests," Percy muttered. "Alright. When's this…revival thing going to go on?"

"In a few minutes, I expect you in my palace. Nico will guide you there," Hades muttered. "Jury dismissed."

And in a flash, the judges disappeared except for Hades, Nico, and Luke. Hades walked up to Percy and folded his arms. The skeleton guards backed up and waited by the flaps of the tent.

"You're a very peculiar dead person, you know."

"I can see that," Percy said carefully.

"You can talk to Nico very eloquently. You were dream-shocked by the judges upon their entry."

"Even I don't know, uncle."

"Maybe it's the Styx aftershock."

"I guess so?"

"Plus, your regrets didn't flow into the River along with every other mortal's silly dreams and wishes."

Percy frowned. "Why?"

"Hell, how do I know?" Hades snorted. "You're just…strange. I can't wait to see you alive and kicking again, though it would've been nice to have your skeleton reanimated into one of my soldiers. But I guess," he sighed, "we might need your skeleton when you get your body back. Plus, much of the requests I _might _make may deal with just a teensy bit of strenuous activity."

"That sounds…riveting," Percy simpered.

"I'll see you in my palace later," Hades said coldly, and with a flash of light, he disappeared, leaving Percy with Nico and Luke.

At first there was silence, which was quickly broken by Luke.

"What happened when we came in, Percy? Dream shock?" he asked worriedly, frowning deeply.

"I guess, whatever that was. It felt weird…" Percy muttered, finally standing up from his chair. He still felt woozy from the sudden attack of memories, rubbing his head gingerly. "Like I was being pounded fifty times a second in the head."

"It's the effect of the judging, I believe. They look back on your life." Luke began pacing around the room. He paused. "Percy, can you promise me one thing when you get back on Earth?"

Percy nodded fervently. "Anything, of course."

"Watch for Annabeth. She's like my little sister. Though she's tough-as-nails, there's just a part of her…well…that might not accept that you're back."

"But I told her-" Nico began. Luke cut him off, naturally.

"Yes, you told her that. But it's just the fact that he's going to be _immortal_. You told her ways to get him _back_, alive and kicking, but now she's getting that and him living past her life expectancy."

Percy's eyes widened and remembered exactly why he turned down the gods' offer four years ago. It was for Annabeth. She, herself, gave up serving Artemis in the hunt just to avoid living as he grew old and died. But wouldn't she be happy, though? Maybe he would take her as his immortal wife years into the future?

"Just take it slow, Percy. She'll know what had happened to you down here. She's sensitive to that kind of stuff."

Percy nodded as Luke smirked.

"I've gotta go," he said softly.

"Thanks for everything, Luke," Percy smiled, holding out a transparent hand. Luke took it, grinning, and with that, he disappeared.

"He went back to Elysium. There's only a certain amount of time he's allowed out from there, and judging usually lasts about an hour, and I think dad gave him a little extension," Nico smiled, trying to pat Percy's shoulder, but his hand slipped through every time. The two friends laughed.

"Let's go to the palace, shall we?" Nico grinned. Percy nodded, taking a breath of air. It felt weird, being dead, yet breathing in the Underworld atmosphere; the air felt hollow inside him.

"I think we should just get this over and done with before your dad changes his mind."

With that, they made their way to the palace, and that was the last thing Percy remembered before everything went black.

Once darkness engulfed him, the pain began.

* * *

Poseidon was furious. The ocean was thrashing; the nearest sea-faring towns were swamped with salt water, and the distant sound of water crashing against rocks was heard even from the bottom of the ocean, at his castle. Along with the fury came his heart breaking ever so slowly. He had found out his favorite demigod son, the one child he had complete faith in, Percy-Perseus-had died, and now for reasons unknown, his body had been stolen from the hospital it was being kept at. It was utter disaster.

"Calm yourself, Poseidon," his wife, Amphitrite, pleaded, grabbing his arm. He shook it away immediately. "He was only your demigod son!"

Poseidon spun around, breathing heavily, anger swelling in his chest. "He was _not _only my 'demigod son', Amphitrite!" he growled. "His mother is heartbroken, his girlfriend is in pieces, and I don't even know what the hell happened with his trial in the Underworld! I KNOW NOTHING! DO YOU KNOW HOW THAT FEELS?" he screamed in rage.

Amphitrite sighed and sat down on the nearest chair, her hair flowing upward with the fizzing current that engulfed the room with Poseidon's rage.

"Yes, I do," she said softly. Poseidon huffed, and walked out the room with fury.

No one could understand his pain, his agony at the news of his son's death. It was unbearable.

"Hello, brother," a coy voice said from behind. The lord of the sea spun around and frowned deeply at his brother, Hades, via Iris Message.

"What do you want?" Poseidon spat. "What happened to my son?"

"You'll find out. I think he's on his way," Hades cackled.

"YOU LIE!" Poseidon's eyes widened, and he lifted his trident, and blasted the Iris Message angrily. He breathed heavily and-

"Fa…father…" a voice whispered hoarsely behind him. Poseidon froze and turned around slowly.

It was Percy, clearly alive. But then, as Poseidon approached him, Percy collapsed into his arms, breathing slowly, clearly asleep.

This was madness, it seemed.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Whoo! Sorry I left you with another cliffhanger there! I really hope you like this story so far. It's going to get a little bit more tense as time goes on. What about Hades' requests? I wonder what's going to happen…hahaha. You, my dear readers, will find out soon enough. Thank you so much for the feedback and story/author alerts. They make my day! Now if you will please leave a review…I'd really, _really _appreciate it. I need as much feedback as I can get if I'm going to continue this story. Thanks!

**Disclaimer: **I am not Rick Riordan, therefore, I don't own the Percy Jackson series. I'm not The Pretty Reckless, so I don't own the song "Make Me Wanna Die", either. It's pretty good, it's off the _Kick-Ass _soundtrack.


	4. Fifty

**C  
****H  
****A  
****P  
****T  
****E  
****R  
****four**

_Fifty  
_.of **when we say  
**..by **littlemusings**

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* * *

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"_These melodies are settling; they're starting to stain.._"  
- We Are The In Crowd

* * *

**_Poseidon's Palace_**

Percy shot up where he lay, gasping for air, running his hands through his messy jet-black hair. He found that tears were forming in his eyes, and he wiped them away quickly. Shaking violently, he held himself protectively, and breathed raggedly. He looked around his surroundings, and when his vision cleared, his eyes widened in surprise.

Percy found himself in a very thalassic setting: he was sitting on a large oyster-shaped bed; the room was an aqua-blue colour and prints of fish and other sea creatures adorned the walls. It was strange, because it seemed as if sea creatures were floating outside of his window majestically.

It was when he saw a shark nod to him respectfully did he realize he wasn't in some strange, aquatic hotel. He jumped out of bed, but then once he got on his feet, he immediately fell to the ground with a _plop._

"Oh my God, oh my God," he whispered in panic, trying to get back up, but once he got on his hands to push up, his limbs shook and he fell back down, forehead hitting the cool, coral floor. Dizzy with fright and chest heaving, he attempted to roll over to face the ceiling. He blinked twice and clutched his head in pain.

"Ugh," he groaned, grabbing his bedside table for support. It shook unsteadily, and a photo frame fell, crashing to the ground. "God damn," he muttered, dragging his legs along as he pushed himself back onto his bed, laying his inert legs on it as he bent down waist-up to grab a hold of the photo that fell, and as he shook out the glass residue, he noticed that he was looking at a photo of himself with Annabeth at his high school graduation two years previously.

"No way," he breathed.

"I see that you're still wondering what on earth is going on," a deep, friendly voice said brightly. Percy turned his head around slowly and saw his father, the lord of the seas, Poseidon, standing before him in human form, the smile crinkles around his eyes emphasized by the large grin on his face. Percy smiled weakly and nodded his head towards his father in regal recognition.

"I'm alive again," Percy whispered hoarsely. "Everything worked, didn't it? My trial and all?"

Poseidon nodded. "Yes, my son, it all did."

"And I'm here, in your palace, talking to you for real, not in some Underworld dream land, right?"

"Right you are," Poseidon nodded once again.

"No way," Percy breathed, feeling his face, his torso, his feet, and his hair. Everything about him was completely solid, not transparent. "Oh my God, it's all real, the back-to-life-crap and stuff like that, oh my God."

Poseidon chuckled. "You're impossible sometimes, Percy."

Percy laughed loudly and cheered. _Yes! Yes, yes, yes! I'm alive!_

"So when can I go back to the surface and see people?" Percy asked, still grinning from ear-to-ear. "Annabeth will be so happy, and mom, of course mom and Paul—"

"Not yet," Poseidon chided, cutting into his excitement. "You still need to regain your strength. You know what happened when you tried to walk, Percy. Your body is rebuilding itself; your soul trying to repair itself and get used to your body again."

Percy nodded slowly. "Alright."

"Percy, who gave you the idea of coming back to life?" Poseidon asked suddenly. "We need to know."

"Nico," he said simply, shrugging. "A fantastic idea, wasn't it?" he added, exhilarant.

Poseidon gave him a very pointed expression—his best poker face. "Percy…as much as I…as I love you as a son, there are even some things I do not wish for you, even in death."

Percy stared at his father, and the smile immediately wiped from his face. "What?"

"You see, Percy…with rebirth and immortality comes a great price."

"Hades said nothing of payback."

"That is where you are wrong, Perseus," Poseidon said sharply. Percy twitched at the sound of his full first name. "Very, very wrong. My brother isn't the type to just give away presents. He always expects something in return from the receiver."

"But…but Nico said he was still happy about all of you reconciling with each other," Percy frowned, indignant.

"There are some things he wants from us. Retribution. Revenge. The years before Luke's self-sacrifice were not a cakewalk for my brother, and I knew there was a catch to your rebirth, Perseus. Have you heard of the Fifty Pillars?"

The name did not sound familiar at all. Percy racked his brains hard for any reference in Greek Mythology and could not recall any. "No. Should I have?"

"No. You shouldn't have, and now you will. Percy, the Fifty Pillars are 50 tasks that must be done for a god by a certain individual. Usually, individuals who have received some sort of gifts from the gods do these tasks. They range from simplistic deeds such as planting trees or taking care of a godling, to very detailed reconnaissance and murder missions."

Percy stared at his father. "So…you're saying that I'm bound to Hades by these 50 tasks."

"Not that I have heard of, my child, but soon enough we will all find out when you are unceremoniously yanked from one of your daily activities."

"Oh my God," Percy whispered, slightly panicking.

"Percy," Poseidon began sternly, "I want you to promise me, no matter what, to do these tasks to the best of your ability, no matter the deed, no matter the cost of life. I will regret the day you do something rash because of my brother, but in order to stay as you are, if you still want to, you will complete the tasks."

"I thought you said you didn't really want me to go through this in the first place," Percy muttered.

"I don't, Perseus, but it was your choice to come back to life. You were willing to achieve rebirth and immortality at the same time, so therefore, you must complete these tasks in order to keep what you have gained."

"No way," Percy shouted, "What the hell? Nico didn't tell me about—"

_Sometimes, the gods who give you the gift of immortality expect something in return._

His bright-green eyes widened and he leaned back against his bed frame, running his hands through his hair. "No, this can't be happening," he whispered, shaking. Poseidon sighed, stood up, and walked out of the room.

As the door clicked shut behind his father, Percy looked around the room wildly and slammed his fist against the wall in frustration. How his emotions could change from jubilation to anxiety, he wondered.

"Fifty tasks," he muttered to himself. "Fifty tasks, I think I can do them," he added, lying back down on his bed. He closed his eyes, and let himself fall back to sleep.

* * *

_**New York City, New York, three weeks later**_

"God damn it, where's my key?" Annabeth muttered to herself as she fumbled with the groceries in her arms and her purse. She frowned and put down the two large brown paper bags she was carrying, and dug in her bag for the keys. When she found them, she jammed them into the lock and turned it grumpily, kicking her grocery bags in gently.

She threw her bag on top of the shoe rack in the foyer of her—no, her and _Percy_'s—apartment, and continued to kick the grocery bags in lazily, and left them on the floor by the kitchen counter.

Annabeth sighed, and sat down on their couch. The memories from the past few weeks still haunted her.

It had been three weeks. Three slow, antagonizing weeks since Percy's murder, and they heard nothing from the Olympians. _It's like they don't even give a shit_, she thought angrily, plopping down on her couch. _This doesn't even make any sense_.

As much as she wanted it to, school didn't even help. When she tried to focus and work on keeping her grades up; fighting her dyslexia, nothing worked. Her classmates, who didn't know a _thing,_ kept on going up to her, giving their condolences. She didn't need them. He wasn't dead. She was sure of it. Instead of focusing on her essays and assignments, she researched extensively on the River Styx, commuting to Camp Half-Blood on weekends to peruse the many bookshelves in the Athena Cabin. Her siblings looked at her strangely, but let her keep to herself.

Even Chiron didn't stop her. She knew that he, too, had that spark of hope—the belief that Percy was still alive somehow. The fact that Grover was easily revived two days after the funeral was proof enough. So instead of burning his body under his funeral shroud like tradition called for, they decided to bury it in a sleek coffin near Peleus and the Golden Fleece.

It was maniac; crazy that they had done so. The whole camp was in attendance, along with Percy's mother and stepfather. Poseidon and Tyson were nowhere in sight. Typical Olympian. But, the fact that Tyson wasn't there struck her as odd.

Annabeth shook off all of her thoughts and assumptions, and turned on the television. She hadn't done so in weeks. The television was still on the channel Percy left it at: Animal Planet. She suddenly remembered that they were watching several 'underwater' specials that night.

"_Isn't that cool?" he laughed, his arm around her shoulders protectively as she flipped through a Greek translation of _Ancient Greek Architecture_ for her class the next day. "A bunch of divers haven't seen those fish yet; they'd have to pay a zillion dollars just to go underwater to see them. We're the lucky ones. I can just make a little bubble,_" _he drew a circle in the air with his finger, "and we'll be able to get down there in no time."_

"_Mmhmm," she nodded, flipping a page tentatively. He looked at her worriedly._

"_Are you alright?" he asked, frowning. "You haven't said a word all night."_

"_Just trying to finish this for class tomorrow."_

_Percy sighed. "You've already read it from cover-to-cover about fifty times."_

"_Five," she snapped. She slammed it shut and noticed his worried expression. "I'm sorry, Perce," she mumbled. "Exams in two weeks, that's why."_

_He laughed. "You'll do fine! You'll be at the top of the class, like always." _

"_This is different!" she exclaimed, sitting up, moving his arm out of the way. He scooted a little farther from her. "The test'll be in English. The words will be all over the place. I need to memorize this book so I can match it to the English version, but the hard thing will be reading the questions and answering them." _

_He smiled. She stared at him as he started to laugh. "What?" she frowned._

"_You've faced countless monsters, Annabeth, and you're worried about a simple test? Yeah, that's heroic," Percy snorted. Annabeth rolled her eyes and moved in closer to him. He looked at her as they both just sat there._

"_I'm sorry," she muttered. _

"_You need to _relax_," Percy smiled, patting her shoulder. "Your birthday is tomorrow, right? I have class all day with no breaks, so I'll just take a cab to school and back around four or five, depending on what time my biology class ends. I start at seven in the morning." _

"_What are you trying to say?" _

"_I'll take you out to dinner tomorrow. Sucks that I can't have breakfast and lunch with you tomorrow, but I think dinner will be better than anything," he laughed, pulling her closer. She laughed and kissed him on the cheek._

"_You're crazy, Seaweed Brain." _

"_Right back at you, Wise Girl," he smiled. "Put on something nice and I'll be in a suit already tomorrow. The professors and everyone'll look at me weird, but I don't care." _

"_I've got to go study," she mumbled again. "Quiz tomorrow." She stood up._

_He sighed. "Where are you going?" _

"_Library. I'll be home in an hour or two, okay?"_

"_Can I come with?" he asked eagerly. She shook her head. _

"_I can't have any distractions," she winked. Percy mumbled a curse in Ancient Greek, and she laughed. "You better be in bed by the time I get home." _

"_Who are you, my mother?" Percy pouted, folding his arms. "Ha, fine." _

"_Is it alright if I sleep in the living room too, when I get home?" Annabeth asked. Percy raised an eyebrow. _

"_Why?"_

"_I don't want to bother you with my memorization." _

_He thought for a minute, and sighed. "Fine." _

_She kissed him on the lips, and waved goodbye as she picked up her backpack and made her way out the door. The last thing she saw of him was his sad expression. _

Annabeth regretted that last night. She cursed her studious side and all she remembered of the day afterwards was someone kissing her cheek and the front door opening and closing quietly.

She turned off the television, and walked back to her groceries and began sorting them out.

"Annabeth," a familiar voice announced behind her. She jumped, nearly dropping her milk carton, and found Chiron speaking to her via Iris Message.

"What's going on?" she asked, putting down the milk carton. Chiron looked both worried and excited at the same time.

"You better get to Camp Half-Blood. Immediately."

She stuffed her groceries into the refrigerator, and was out the door in a flash.

A van was already waiting for her outside the apartment building.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Holy crap, it's been forever since I've posted. I'm really sorry about that. I've been really busy with school and exams just finished, so I thought I would just finish this chapter and keep on going throughout my break time to do so. I hope you enjoyed this. Please leave a review, and much nectar and ambrosia will be given! I'd really appreciate it.

**Disclaimer:** Again, I am not Rick Riordan, therefore, I don't own the Percy Jackson series. I'm not Mae, so I don't own their song "Giving It Away". Excellent song, though.


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